


Lights! Camera! Love..?

by WarriorOmen



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020), The Old Guard Comics
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Banter, Drama, Fic within Fic, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, Hollywood Setting, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Minor POV Switching, Mutual Pining, Romance, Sex, Smoking, The Old Guard Mini Bang 2020, alternative universe, depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:40:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29253093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarriorOmen/pseuds/WarriorOmen
Summary: Yusuf al-Kaysani is an author who hit a fierce stride with his newest book, ‘Shadower’. Shadower hit the radar and got popular enough that it became a hot bidding item to be adapted to screen.After receiving and considering some offers, Yusuf accepts the offer of Andy, a director from her production company, Old Guard Productions, where she works alongside her wife, Quynh a producer and their co-producer, Lykon.For the production, Andy desperately wants to cast the new ‘triple-threat’ up and comer, Nile Freeman and a blacklisted actor, Nicolò di Genova, who’s had trouble getting work since an incident where he punched popular director Steven Merrick (settled out of court) and nobody ever heard Nicky’s side of the story. Nor did the viral video show his side.Nile’s not keen on working with Nicky.Joe has no idea what this is all about and is completely out of his element. Andy convinces Nile that working with Nicky will be okay- even though she’s one of the only people who knows the truth about the ‘incident’ and going on sheer trust alone is not always a great sell.And then Joe meets Nicky.And Nicky meets Joe.It escalates from there.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 27
Kudos: 221
Collections: The Old Guard Big Bang





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is folks! My first ever Big Bang!
> 
> As you'll notice, the fic is mostly Joe centric, and from his POV and experience.
> 
> This was a very unique writing challenge for me, as I found myself writing within a style that I'm not used to. And in bits and pieces. And it wouldn't exist without the endless support of my friends and the community. There's more notes at the end, but I especially want to use this space to acknowledge those that helped me monstrously along the way.
> 
> While I had ended up conceiving many alternative ideas throughout writing, and several more moments of changing things, I finally managed to create what I hope is a decent fic.
> 
> My artist, Ashley, could not have been better. Her amazing art for this fic can be found here. I am so grateful to her for her understanding, consideration and incredible work ethic. Ashley, you're a real one and I'm still so glad you picked my fic. Thank you for everything and your art is just stunning. I think it captures the fic really well.
> 
> [Art Here](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9bc70be7e0b188a1226e54244fc8ec30/ea1b06fc734b2bb7-99/s1280x1920/07b08c342fc298b119c4249ff72ffbdc0697c566.jpg) Please go see it, follow her, and thank her for this amazing piece.
> 
> I can also be found on [Tumblr](https://coffeebeannate.tumblr.com/), as can my many friends that helped me along the way. 
> 
> So thanks for reading and enjoy.
> 
> Self and Friend Beta'd, edited and fixed over.

_“You keep this up, you’re going to get bit.”_

_The figure shifts, Marlon adjusts their grip on their gun, the favourited Colt pointed towards the ground, finger off the trigger and un-cocked. A fact the two both know can change in an instant._

_“Suppose I like being bit.” The figure replies, “Come now, Marlon, you think those old tricks intimidate me?”_

_“Who said I’m trying to intimidate you?” Marlon asks, in that same, steadfast cadence the living shadow had become attached to, “You know this game; you know how this plays out.”_

_“Ah, sweet Mar.’’ The shadows taunt, “How I love it when you tease me so.”_

_The Colt cocks._

_“Who’s teasing who?” Marlon asks, warning, “You’re not my type.”_

_Laughter, thick, luscious, an impossible draw, if Marlon were the questioning type, it’d be attractive enough, but they were not and no amount of coaxing would change their mind._

_“Nor you mind, dear Mar. Not the way you suggest.”_

_The Colt finds its pathway from the ground, even in darkness, Marlon’s aim is accurate. “I should think not,”_

_Steps, the shadow moves closer, even with the gun so near, the Colt a looming threat, “Of course not, Marlon, after all..”_

_Steps, short, heavy, the shadow making no effort to conceal his movements, though all Marlon can see are sharp, green eyes, “I’m not most men, I have no investment in women.”_

_For a second, Marlon’s surprise outwits control, and their beloved Colt’s barrel is stroked with a single, gloved finger._

_“Come, Marlon.”_

_-Shadower, by Yusuf al-Kaysani_

_~~_


	2. Chapter 2

Yusuf al-Kaysani’s plane landed in Los Angeles at ten after ten in the morning, and his life changed forever.

He’d been told where to go, and who to expect for meeting him. But even as he rolled his teal-green clam shell suitcase along, he felt apprehensive and lost. As if the entire moment was just too good to be true. Even now, with all the confirmation that he had.

“Mr. al-Kaysani!” A voice called out, forcing Yusuf to lift his head and scan the surrounding area, though he had been doing so already. The nervousness was buzzing within his fingers, tightening the grip on his suitcase handle as if that would help him somehow.

“Who..?” Yusuf tried to find who was calling him, until finally, a young man in a black dress shirt and pants came up to him, “Mr.al-Kaysani? I’m Jesse, I’m supposed to take you to your hotel.”

“Oh.” He hadn’t been told who’d be picking him up, but he’d been told someone would know what he looked like from a description, and nodded, “Yes of course, sure.” Yusuf would not consider himself a shy man, but he felt out of place here. The airport was cluttered, and busy. A throng of people and activity that it was far to early in the morning for.

But then, Yusuf was no morning person.

The car ride was quiet, Yusuf not sure what he wanted to say, or do, letting Jesse drive him to the hotel that had been booked for him. Even with the early hour and plane ride, he had no desire to lay down, nor did he have the time. Sat in the backseat, he reached over to the seat, where his suitcase lay beside himself, opening it up and pulling his tablet free.

His book, Shadower, was immediately loaded when he opened it. He’d read it continually during the plane ride. Too anxious to settle, and constantly worried. Not overly fond of flying either.

Over and over, he’d gone through the pages. Page after page. It still amazed him that this was happening. That this book had gotten him a _movie_ deal. At times, he was tempted to think back and ask himself if he was simply dreaming. Not knowing what to expect but knowing that the person who’d taken the deal, Andy, was both eager and promising.

Yusuf barely gets the third page open before Jesse is slowing, telling him that they’ve arrived. He hastily closed the tablet’s screen, pushed it back into his suitcase and zipped it up, declining Jesse’s offer to help him out further. Taking his suitcase, Joe checked himself in, the key card feeling strangely heavy in his hand as he stepped into the elevator for his room.

 _‘Lovely room’_ , Joe notes, when he enters it. Well kept, very crisp and cozy in a minimalist, but inviting way. If he wasn’t so distracted, he’d be tempted to appreciate it far more. The accommodations surely a lot better than he’d anticipated, though he didn’t believe they were going to be _bad,_ this is genuinely nice.

There’s a small coffee and tea station, and while a cup of tea would be nice to soothe the nerves, he doubts any of them are herbal and if he has anymore coffee right now his eyes are going to vibrate straight out of his skull. Besides, he was supposed to call Andy when he got settled, to let her know that she could come and speak with him.

His fingers tremble slightly over his phone, finding the number he’d been given and opening a call, attempting to sound put together as he waits for her to answer.

“Joe!” Comes the immediate, warm greeting. “Glad to hear from you, Jesse got you alright?”

“Yes, he did. I’m at the hotel now.”

“Great! I’ll come down there in about ten minutes. There’s a small combine café and general cafeteria down by the lobby, meet me in there and we’ll talk it out.”

So quick, Joe had almost been wondering if it’d not be afternoon before he saw her. Clearly, Andy’s eager to get the ball rolling.

“Sure, yeah, I’ll be right there.”

She hangs up with no further instruction, and Joe takes a moment to stare uselessly at the darkening screen before sliding his phone back into his pocket. His bag is fine to stay unpacked for now, Joe only freeing his tablet and grabbing the hotels key card to slip into his wallet before he leaves the room once more.

Once he’s back at the ground floor, Joe spies a public bathroom, ducking inside to check his reflection and make sure he doesn’t look _too_ fresh from a plane.

Much to his chagrin, he could look better. Curls askew about his head, slightly frizzy from heat and movement, eyes tired where it’s obvious he’s not slept much. He sets his tablet safely aside and splashes some water on his face with his hands, straightens out some of the wrinkles on his shirt and pretends like he looks a little more put together and assured of himself.

Best he can do now anyway, with such limited time. Stepping out of the bathroom, tablet in hand, heading into the café area.

“Joe!” Joe turns his head, assuming the woman across the way calling him must be Andy, since nobody else _would_ be calling out to him.

She’s a tall brunette with a short, cropped hair that hangs slightly over the left eye, dressed in black skinny jeans, ankle boots and a t-shirt that was so worn and faded he couldn’t tell if there’d once been a logo on it or not.

Joe shakes her hand, telling himself his grip isn’t shaky, assuring her that his flight was fine, and that he’s ready to talk.

“Good, I tend to get things moving along swiftly, I don’t like a lot of delays.” Andy says, having a seat. Joe’s glad she’s not mentioned drinks, unsure he could focus on both her and a drink when he’s so nervous.

“That’s fine, I’m just so out of my element here.”

“Which is why I’m going to explain it.” Andy says, Joe wondering if there’s amusement there or not. “I think you have something good here, and it’s why I was interested in picking it up.”

“Thank you.” Joe says, and if there’s one thing he’s not bashful about, it’s his writing. He knows he can write. He knows he can tell a good story, and Shadower had proved that, as had some of his previous works.

“I am excited, to see it on a screen.” Joe says, and that’s not anything he’s uncertain about. He’d been thinking about it since there had been talk of it being a possibility. Something he created something that came straight from his mind, projected into moving images and scenes he could have only pictured, it’s exciting. Thrilling.

Andy’s gaze is amused, almost fond. “I like that. I had a feeling there’d be a passionate edge behind you. It’s made pretty obvious within your writing, of course.”

“Oh, well.” Joe shuffles a little, “Means I’m doing my job well enough.”

“Indeed.” She takes a moment to pick up phone, setting it on the table. “I have some general details to walk you through. We’ll have to modify your book to a script, of course. Which will be in your hands, overseen often by me and with any necessary input that is required. Film is a different medium to book, and sometimes what translates excellently in a novel does not on screen; but can be adapted to do just that.”

“Of course.” Joe agrees. “That is completely sensible.”

“So.” Andy continues, “Maybe to help, how do _you_ see your project, Joe? Shadower. What is it in your mind?”

Joe’s grateful to speak on something he understands. “Shadower is the kind of project I wanted to get into for a while. I love all sorts of literature, but there’s always been a certain charm to some genres. One was the ‘noir’ genre, as it is known. Those cheap novels one could find just about anywhere completely captivated me. Both within my childhood, and later adulthood. I knew I’d want to delve into it at some point. Of course, the more I came to learn of myself-not that you really want me to go into my life story right now-“

“No, continue.”

There’s a bluntness to Andy’s speech that Joe estimates will not always be quite as kind. Still, he accepts easily.

“Well, I’m gay. And like anyone else in the world, I like reading things that appeal to me and that I can formulate a connection with. As I was trying to conceive how Shadower could come into being, I thought to myself that maybe, I could take a common pattern in the genre I loved so much, tweak it and give it my own personal touch.”

He pauses, to catch his thoughts. “Combining something the world is familiar with and twisting it up does not always go over so well. But I have developed some level of confidence within my skills, so I tried it anyway. When I considered Shadower, as a character first, I had that ideology of the ever-dashing antagonist we’re all so familiar with. But I already knew he’d be more of a protagonist alongside my actual one, Marlon. Being in the sort of world and community that I am, I simply considered; ‘Well, an ambiguous detective is one thing, and a woman detective has been done before. But, why not have Marlon also be queer? Shadower is also queer, and a thief. Of course, and when Marlon is given the case-Shadower becomes wise to them quickly, and while Marlon does not _actually hide_ that she’s a woman, people tend to mistake her otherwise, and it’s through a developing friendship with Shadower that Marlon eventually ends up teaming up with him.”

Joe takes another pause, but Andy only gestures for him to continue; sensing that he has more to say.

“I think that an important factor about them both is that Shadower has crafted and imagined himself as a sort of Robin Hood like figure. Stealing objects and returning them to their rightful owners. Be this from museums, auctions, you name it. But he’s not always right. And he creates headaches for people he never intends to. Similarly, Marlon is not entirely clean either. She’s made choices she’d rather not have, and she questions her position at times. She’s a private detective, but does that always fit into a totally altruistic and wholesome narrative of a person? People can come into media with any expectation they have. Those who want depth can get depth, those that just want to have a good time can have a good time. It’s a tricky balance, but I feel that I’ve done a decent job with it in Shadower.”

“A perfect balance never exists, and anticipating one dooms you to failure.” Andy says. “But your meaning is perfectly understandable.”

“Thank you. I have tried to get it across.”

“So with our leads, Marlon and Shadower, you see them as friends?”

“I do, but the friendship has it’s elements, as any does. Marlon questions Shadower’s methods, which are not _always_ so innocent, and Shadower questions Marlon’s dedication at times. She’s extremely determined to see things through, but there are moments where she doubts herself, and her position in life. There’s also a great deal of banter and levity, as I find it charming.”

Andy hums to herself, as if making a snap decision. “Well, I’ll let you know that I have considered people to cast, and I think that they’re more than suited. You’ll be meeting them later today, at dinner. With the script and casting, it’ll give the meat of what we’re to be doing. And how to proceed.”

She continued to explain technical details, jargon that Joe had to ask multiple times for clarification on, and how long they could anticipate working for. At one point, Joe feels the jet lag creeping in, and fights off the sudden fatigue with grounded determination.

It’s not that he feels a true need to prove himself so much as he wants Andy to understand that he’s going to work with her, and that he’s committed. Still, it was a flight and he’s unable to fully stifle the two yawns.

“Sorry,” Andy laughs, “I know, jet lags a bitch. I think we have more than enough to work with her, Joe. When I was reading the book, I couldn’t help bit be drawn in by what you’d created. Noir films are hit and miss features. Some are done fantastically, others pure shit. But taking that genre, and giving it a newer, more expansive face was what really made me want to work on this. I _wanted_ to bring these characters out. I wanted to give them a medium that could truly showcase their feelings, thoughts, abilities, and personalities. To see that on screen and give your book the kind of secondary exposure I think it deserves.”

“I’m delighted to be given such a chance, Andy.”

“Good. And I’m glad that you are having it. You have a winner here, Joe. Time to bring it to light. After you’ve had a nap, of course.”

“I’m aware of dinner, later?”

“Time enough to sleep a little, unless you wish to fall face-first into whatever you decide to order.”

It was hard not to like Andy. She was a touch brash, and Joe was still nervous, but it was that commanding, controlled energy that made him feel comforted and like he could feed off it and have even half as much a clue as to what he was doing.

"Thank you,' Joe stands up, "I'll see you later at dinner, then?"

"Sure will."

~~

At least he doesn’t look as rough as he did that morning, Joe thinks, adjusting his tie for the ninth time before finally accepting that there is no possible way to look anymore put together than he already was, taking a deep breath and stepping into the restaurant, close on Andy’s heels.

He’s chosen a grey suit with a matching tie, and no vest. Worked his hair into something he hopes looks more put together than anything else, and a light cologne. It won’t mask the nerves, but at least he looks the part.

A hostess guides them to a table, where two people, a man, and a woman, are waiting for them, sitting in apparent silence, and sat across from one another with an empty chair beside each. The woman stands first, and Joe’s momentarily taken by how graceful she appears. If he focuses on the gold dress, or her earrings and wide smile, he can pretend there wasn’t an air of tension hanging there just moments ago as he and Andy approached.

“Hello, Joe?” She asks, “I’m Nile. Nile Freeman.”

 _Right. Obviously._ Andy had told him her name hours ago at their first meeting. “It’s good to meet you, Nile.” He says, shaking her hand back, Nile smoothly transitioning to greet Andy.

The man, Joe notes, hasn’t made any real movement, as if he’s waiting for something, when Andy turns her head.

“Nicky” It’s not quite a hiss, “Stand up.”

Nicky-Joe gathers, nods once, a little curt, and does so, turning to face Joe now, standing just where Nile had been moments before. Joe’s entire line of sight is covered by wide shoulders and a slightly tense expression that Joe doesn’t _think_ is unfriendly, but honestly is not sure about. Extending his hand carefully, a little bit lost in the sharp green gaze that peers at him expectantly.

He has a slight beard, though it’s closer to stubble and sits close to the jaw, allowing Joe to see the shape of his face perfectly. He’s also in a suit, like Joe, though his is black and he’s left off a tie entirely, leaving the two top buttons of the collar on his white dress shirt open.

His hair is longer than Joe expected, past his ears and a shade of dark brown.

For a second, Joe swallows, collecting himself, not entirely settled by the man’s attitude, handsome or not. “I’m Joe, uh, as you heard. You’re Nicky?”

“That’s right.” His grip is firm on Joe’s, his voice slightly rough. “Good to meet you, Joe.”

Nile’s already moving to sit, Andy taking a seat beside her, Joe takes the cue and sits down with Nicky last, and he swears he spies Andy give Nicky a warning glance across the table. Nile shakes her head slightly, and Joe is entirely lost to the strange tension hovering in the air, feeling suddenly keyed up and on high alert.

Breaking some of the unease, Andy reaches for a menu. “I wonder if they’ve changed it recently,” She muses, “Don’t recognize half this shit.”

It gets a short, awkward laugh from Nicky and a little noise from Nile. But the atmosphere is still dense enough that Joe feels an urge to scratch some non-existent itch just to give himself something to do.

The menu is a far better choice, and he scans it as quietly as possible, and further silence descends. As if nobody is entirely sure what to say. And it remains as such until after the waiter has been dispatched with their orders.

Though drinks, Andy finally drives the conversation away from barely-there small talk to work, forcing everyone back on track.

“Nile.” She says, “I’ve told both you and Nicky why I think you’d be perfect, but we’re going to need Joe’s opinion.”

“Of course,” Nile says, turning her attention to Joe, who tries hard not to swallow too obviously. “I have no issue being offered this role. I think the character of Marlon is fascinating. It would give me something to work with and seems to be great fun.”

He could sense a little hesitation, and nervously, prompted,

“..But?”

She hesitated, then straightened her shoulders back “I don’t think I could work with Nicky.”

Joe blinked, a little surprised by such an answer. Andy studied her wine glass and, when Joe glanced to his side to gage Nicky’s reaction, but is met by only silence.

“Nile..”

“It is not your fault, Andy, or anyone’s, but I am not sure that this is a good decision for me to be making.”

“What?” Nicky asks, startling Joe a little with the suddenness of it, “Afraid of marring some crystal-clear reputation by associating with me?”

“Nicky.” Andy chastises, quickly. Nile fixating him with a glare.

“Am I wrong?”

There’s further silence, silence that Joe does not dare to interrupt.

Fortunately, Andy handles that, again. “We’ll come back to that later. Nicky, what about you?”

He shrugs, shoulders rolling slowly with it. “Seems an alright job to me.”

When nothing further comes, Joe feels a prickle of annoyance. The flippant attitude bothers him, and he makes no attempt at pretending otherwise.

“Is there anything else?” He can’t help but prompt, wanting at least _something_ to work with.

“You’re a good writer. And as I said, the job seems interesting.”

 _Jeeze, thank you so much. Stellar feedback. Glad I don’t pay you._ Joe thinks.

The mood of dinner does not improve from there. Try as they might, the conversation never manages to get a flow going. Joe warms up to Nile readily enough, as she’s earnest and polite and seems genuinely interested in his work. Andy keeps the balance as good as she can and he’s happy to work with her too.

But, Nicky.

Nicky provides them with, at most, short, interjected sentences, and the bare minimum of effort. Joe’s a devoted sort and finds the distance of it all irritating.

Still, he did not want to question Andy’s judgement. She saw something in him, clearly and he wanted to cooperate.

When dinner ends and they all get ready to depart, Andy explains that they can all speak again the following day. Give some time to think things over.

Nile’s parting handshake is strong and warm, and Joe watches her leave with a small smile.

When he shakes Nicky’s hand, it’s short, and he gets little more than a ‘good night’ before he’s out the door.

Sighing, Joe turns to Andy, who puts her hand on his shoulder. “Listen. Joe. I know Nicky isn’t that welcoming. But I know what I’m doing here. I’d really like for you to consider him, okay?”

Joe had no clue _why._ It wasn’t as though Nicky had offered much to give him any reason to do so. But Andy wasn’t Andy for no reason, and he had to at least give it some consideration.

“Of course. I’ll wait for your call later.” He says. “Good Night, Andy.”

She smiles, relieved, “Thank you. Good Night Joe.”

Joe waits until she’s gone outside before he takes a minute to collect himself, before heading for the door on his own.

The air’s cooled some from earlier, and when Joe goes to turn the corner to his hotel, he’s startled to see Nicky still there. Looking infuriatingly compelling as he leans against the wall of the restaurant, smoking.

“You smoke?” Joe asks before his brain acknowledges he’s had a thought in the first place.

“You don’t?” Nicky retorts. Making Joe groan mentally. _What was with this guy?_

“No, though I’m surprised you do. Don’t actors have to watch their health?”

“When they’re working, sure.”

There’s a touch of bitterness there, and Joe’s caught off guard yet again.

When he gets no real response, Nicky sighs, taking another drag, “Never mind, back to your hotel then?”

“Well, I don’t live in LA, nowhere else to go. Could use more sleep anyway.”

Another drag, Joe watches the line of smoke start to creep it’s way around Nicky’s head.

There is no denying it-he’s attractive. Joe’s not even going to pretend otherwise. Such things had to be par for the course, being that he was an actor and all. But up-close Joe can see features, naturally occurring ones that not even make up or special effects could achieve.

Attitude was clearly a big one, and it paired magnificently with the intense green eyes that now stared at him, the sturdiness in his jaw and the glisten in his gaze that told Joe Nicky knew _exactly_ what he was thinking.

“You good?” He asks, snapping Joe out of it.

“Peachy.” Joe replies, annoyed he’d gotten as distracted as he did. “Since conversation doesn’t seem to be your strong suit, I’ll be going now.”

Nicky snorts, low and almost derisive. “What’s keeping you then?”

 _I don’t know? Maybe the fantasy that you’ll actually say something useful?_ Joe’s brain natters.

But then, it had only been a couple hours. Maybe he just caught him at a bad time tonight.

Confused, and more than a little tired, Joe does make to walk again. “Nothing, I guess. Good Night, again. Enjoy your smoke.”

He walks faster, not sure he wants to get caught in another awkward exchange. When Nicky makes no call back to him, Joe relaxes his shoulders.

As he disappears from view, he’s unable to hear the faint, almost disappointed, “..Shit.” from Nicky.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner had left a sour taste in Yusuf’s mouth, one that failed to abate even as he entered his hotel room with a certainty that he’d fucked everything up before it’d even begun.

Nicky, the second main lead in this entire affair did not seem to like him one single iota. And Yusuf was not feeling much more charitable towards the bristly man himself. And he was not alone. Throughout the entire dinner, Nile seemed to be at best mostly tolerating the second man’s presence.

Not at all aided by her stating flat out that she didn’t feel she could _work_ with Nicky. And maybe Joe didn’t know squat about film making, but surely if the two lead actors couldn’t get along, it was not going to be a good shoot, or a great outcome.

Wasn’t chemistry something people talked about all the time?

Even when they were as film noobish as Yusuf himself, people tended to realize and recognize that good chemistry made a film a better experience to watch.

Nile, he had no complaints about. She’d make a perfect Marlon. Enough so that Yusuf continually debated pinching himself. And while he was not in doubt of Nicky’s acting abilities and he _looked_ the part..the personality of the man had Yusuf on total edge.

But how would such a thing translate to a screen? Did Yusuf even know?

Could a movie be made when nobody liked each other?

So many questions, a flight and insetting jet lag had his head hurting. Best head to bed and think of it all in the morning. There was so little Yusuf could do about this, and he was too apprehensive about throwing the entire project away if he complained too much.

Showering was a better idea, and one that faded the moment Joe collapsed onto the bed face first, dragged down and heavier than he thought it was possible to be, out in seconds.

Blissful, blissful seconds.

~~

Scotch had a distinctive burn as it went down, but those brief moments were fleeting enough to make it tolerable.

“I thought you stopped drinking?” Soft disapproval filtering over the phone screen, Nicky glancing down into the eyes of his sister, Natala, their colouring identical to his own (though he sometimes told her his were prettier, and had been in magazines, after all, wildly praised through time).

“Yeah, yeah. Give me a break, read me the riot act later.” He yawned.

“So, it didn’t go well?” Natala asked, “Or am I meant to play guessing games all night?”

“So very like mother.” He drawled, “And no, it’s not that it went _poorly, exactly.”_

“Exactly?”

Nicky sighed heavier, “Nobody but Andy really wants me there. Nile, I think you would have heard of her.”

“Who hasn’t these days?”

“Right, anyway, she doesn’t like me. Or she doesn’t trust me. And the author, Yusuf he, uh, well it’s just that..”

The pauses were too long for his sister, and Nicky felt much a fish pinned on a hook, might as well have dangled bait before her. “Not fond of you either?” A slight smile toying with her lips.

“I don’t _know”_ Nicky sighed, for what felt like the tenth time in as many minutes, “I can’t tell if he likes me or not. Everything was tense. Andy kept most of the conversation flow going. Nile’s professional, but Yusuf clearly does not know what he’s doing, and even when Andy was prompting him, he just seemed doubtful.”

None of that was helped, of course, by Nicky being so on-edge about being able to have a chance to get back to work that he couldn’t help but feel snappish with them all. He was entirely sure that he didn’t give Joe a single good thing to think about himself.

“You did just meet him, Nico.” She tried to reason, “Maybe he’s just nervous?”

“Yeah, maybe. But Nile? She’s meant to work right alongside me, that won’t do Andy or Yusuf any favours if she can’t stand the sight of me.”

“Can guarantee she never said that, nor implied it. Give them a chance, you may find yourself surprised.”

“Stop being the voice of reason when I’m trying to panic and mope at you.”

“Not possible; and stop drinking. You want to be clear headed for tomorrow.”

“Yes Mother.”

The conversation dulled a little after that, Nicky disconnecting the call shortly thereafter. Empty glass in hand, he sets it aside, figuring if nothing else, his sisters words held truth.

Bed beckons and feels unwelcoming, but with nothing else to do and work looming, he turns in.

~~

On a whim, Joe brings out Google.

He’s due to be meeting Andy later, but he has some time to himself this morning in his hotel. So, after a small breakfast, he finds himself at his Ipad on one of the hotel rooms chairs, and with the Google search bar staring at him, feels compelled to type in Nicky’s name.

The hits startle him.

“Damn.” Starting to scroll. Headshots. Movie Shots. Wikipedia article. Some fandom blog article.

And then news articles.

Twitter headliners follow those.

Video clips follow that.

And it’s when Joe scrolls back slower that he notices most of the video clips are the same.

 **‘Nicky Punches Director Merrick!!’** or a variation of that titling, bills most of them.

“The hell?” Joe mumbles, finger hovering over the one.

He doesn’t want to tap it.

He’s not sure why he doesn’t want to tap it, but he’s hesitating all the same. Still, he finds himself clicking the video.

It’s short, blurry, and brutal in a way that makes little sense. There’s no context and almost 0 sound that’s discernible to the ear, but Joe can easily make out the blurring of Nicky’s body as his fist collides with the face of the man that Joe can assume to be Director Merrick, before everything cuts back out.

No video provided, duplicates or otherwise had dialogue. And as Joe began to rapid-click through various postings and articles, it seemed there was almost no explanation given to what had happened.

Finally, confused anxiety stirring in Joe’s gut, he finds an article detailing that the issue had been settled out of court and Nicky had been forced to attend mandated anger management. And he had not held down a single job in media since.

For a brief, hesitating second, Joe feels a touch of guilt in that he doesn’t have much trouble allying the Nicky he saw in the video with the one he’d met the night before. The man was certainly brusque and bristly enough.

And yet, something doesn’t quite sit right.

In the video, Nicky is shown mostly from behind, and sideways. It was clearly taken at a distance, and a bad angle at that. And he finds it incredibly hard to believe that Nicky just snapped without any reason. That he just decided one day to punch some director he was working with.

But that further bothers Joe, as he has little to go on for such an assumption. He’d left dinner feeling unsatisfied and uncertain, and now he was having a hard time reconciling a violent act with it.

Not knowing what to think, Joe clicks back to biographical and filmography articles, and some video clips from various projects Nicky had done.

It’s only on the third video from a third project example that Joe finds himself realizing that Nicky got popular for a reason. He’s clearly talented, and despite the flippant attitude he’d been given the night before, there’s enough charm presented on screen that counteract it.

But then, who knew how dedicated Nicky was on set? Or if he was just really that good at reading a script, presenting, and not giving much feedback on his own?

Of course, then, it was still early days. He’d only met Nicky once.

Joe’s on his sixth clip when his phone rings, Andy calling.

Pausing the clip, he picks it up.

“Hello, Andy?”

“Hello Joe.” She sounds a little tired, but satisfied, “Was going to call you earlier, but I’ve been speaking with Nile.”

“Oh, of course no, don’t worry about it. Is Nile alright?”

“She’s fine. She’ll work with Nicky.”

That surprises Joe greatly. Nile had seemed quite uncertain about the prospect last night. “Well, that..has to be good. She’s definitely okay with it?”

“Fine enough,” Andy says, “Which is also why I’m calling. You’re not, I’m sure.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing in this regard.” Joe points out. “But I do know my work, and I know the kind of script I want to write. I know what ideas I have in my head. And I’m worried that I won’t get that if I cannot get any kind of feedback or understanding.”

“Joe.” Andy interjects, “I know this is a little weird. But I can tell you that Nicky is right for this. I know Nicky well. He’s not half as harsh as one would have you believe. It’s more..”

“More what?” Joe asks, confused, “He didn’t seem very inclined to be communicative last night.”

“The industry is not his friend right now, and he can be quiet.”

It almost sounded like Andy was trying to say Nicky was shy. Which made no sense to Joe at all. How could an actor be shy?

Figuring that’s out of his lane, he lets her continue. “Let Nicky do this. It will work. I promise.”

Andy was the type of director who got her way, and it showed. Joe has no real reason to argue against it, however, and he’s no entirely inclined to do so.

It’s not that he feels cornered so much as confused.

“Alright, then. I cannot really think of a reason to say no.”

“Thank you.” He’s a little surprised by how legitimately relieved she seems. “I know what I’m doing Joe, you’ll see.”

He sure hoped so.


	4. Chapter 4

**FADE IN:**

**BACKDROP ALLEY**

**There Is No Sound**

**Shadower**

**(Quietly), facing away from Marlon**

Angus didn’t make it.

**Marlon**

**Coming up from behind Shadower, she’s holding a small (undefined) object between two gloved fingers.**

Was he supposed to?

**Shadower**

**Smoking, only turning to face her when the cigarette is to ashes.**

Wasn’t he?

**Marlon**

**(Angrily)**

You’re the one who gave the order. It was your call. You’re the one who made that decision. I was going to stop you, I tried to stop you **.**

**Marlon’s voice never raises. She speaks slowly, steadily.**

**Shadower**

**Long pause. Long enough Marlon should be left assuming he may never actually answer her.**

So, what stopped you then? Before you stopped me?

**~~**

Joe stares at the page.

He’s a good while into the script and had been working for well over a week by this point. There is an alienating feeling to the medium that he finds himself treading carefully, but with some assistance he’s finding it easier to get the situation sorted. He also finds that it gets easier to adapt the writing style as he writes, and it’s not long before he falls into it.

He works between the studio and his hotel room, depending on what he needs or how much time he has.

As he works, Andy begins to introduce him to the rest of the cast and crew. From what he can discern, she has a very solid team behind her.

Her producer (and wife), Quynh was instantly a favourite of Joe’s. From the minute she shook his hand and started giving him details about what could be anticipated, what sort of ideas she and Andy had in mind, and the general flare with which she spoke, he was charmed and captivated.

Similarly, Lykon, the co-producer, was vibrant and animated, though sometimes looked a little groggier in the evening. “He’s a real morning glory, but useless past ten pm,” Andy had said, giving Lykon another coffee one night, being met with semi-cheery grumbles and a wave with the cup.

The strangest one amongst them all was Booker, the director of photography. He seemed to straddle the bar between ‘exhausted dad and peaked in High School jock’ but was friendly enough.

“It’s five o’clock somewhere is a useless statement.” Booker said, when Joe approached the coffee maker for the fourth time that day. “You want help with that?” Indicating his cup, “Khalua.”

Joe stared, “Maybe after work?”

“Well sure.” Booker shrugged, “But your work doesn’t really have hours. Writing whenever and all.”

“I’m good with sugar but thank you.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll find you the good spots to chill here.”

Was chilling that vital? Joe couldn’t be sure and quickly made his excuses to leave, assured he’d start warming up to people eventually.

And speaking of warming up to people.

Joe’d only seen Nicky a handful of times since their first meeting, and each time felt stranger than the last.

Their second meeting, Nicky had studied him from the side, like he was absolutely mesmerized by Joe’s profile. And when Joe had _finally_ turned his head to see, he’d already looked away. Like he somehow knew that Joe was going to turn his gaze in that moment and bailed.

The third meeting was shorter, Nicky had been talking on the phone with someone, smoking and leaning over a railing to the studio’s back lot. He was speaking quickly, softly, and couldn’t look away.

“You’re smoking?” Joe asked, when he’d hung up.

“You knew I did.”

“But you’re working now.” Joe retorted, making Nicky laugh so suddenly, so openly Joe felt a flaring of heat down his spine. He had a beautiful expression when he laughed, crinkles around his eyes and wide smile taking up his entire face. Utterly mesmerizing.

“Touché.” Nicky grinned, tossing the cigarette aside, “Suppose I will behave now hmm?”

Joe felt itchy all night after that.

Upon another night of highly embarrassing Googling that finally led to the most cliché ‘Is Nicolò di Genova Gay’?” And was met with _extremely_ positive results of “Yes, very openly” that Joe felt a small existential crisis brewing in the back of his head.

Now, Joe walks back to his working room, and the hallway is weirdly narrow, and Joe’s a little too lost in thought to notice Nicky coming up form the other hallway before there’s a sudden hand on his shoulder.

“Joe?”

Joe’s neck snaps as he lifts his head, cursing mentally at Nicky’s perturbed expression. “That eager to crash right into me?”

“What gave you that idea?”

“The fact that you were walking straight ahead without a care in the world?” Nicky suggests.

“Would you _like_ being crashed into?”

“If it’s you? Def-“

Nicky blinks at the same time as Joe, and brings his hand away quickly, coughing awkwardly.

“..Nick-“

“Do you know where Andy is?”

“Uh, I think her office?”

“Great, thanks.”

“What-“

Nicky’s turning, quick on his heel back in the exact direction he’d just come from. Leaving Joe confused and startled, still feeling the warmth of the hand on his shoulder.

And that was how it went for the duration of the script writing.

Sometimes, Joe would see Nile, and try to get her opinion on things. Other times, he’d be speaking with Andy. Most of the time he worked alone, hammering out whatever details he could into his project and trying to make the translation from book to script as authentic as possible.

Randomly, he’d come across Nicky, and be left with the same feelings of warmth and confusion as ever before.

They bumped into each other at the beginning of the second month, when Nicky was coming from Andy’s office, wearing a dark grey form-fitting t-shirt and sweat-pants that had no business being attractive and absolutely were and left Joe frozen in place as Nicky stopped in his own tracks.

“Gym day.” Nicky said, helpfully.

“Glorio-“ Joe stopped himself, “Good day?”

Nicky laughed, catching it all the same. “Suppose so. I enjoy working out.”

“Treadmill?”

“Sometimes, or archery.”

“You do archery?” Joe asked, pretending like the mental image was going to make him physically combust.

“Sure, it’s a good work out.”

Joe swallowed, “I..those bows are uh, they’re heavy yeah?”

“Depending. Once you get used to it though it’s really no different than any other thing you adapt to.”

Of course, of course it wasn’t. Joe wasn’t planning another furious Google search later. Not at all.

Nicky’s in his space again before he’s caught up with the thought process, just off to the side as if to pass him. “I have pictures. If you’re ever interested, I’ll message you them.”

Oh yeah, he did have his number.

Wait.

_He had his number._

He had gotten it after Nicky and Nile had been officially hired. And he’d done exactly nothing with it.

“Look forward to it.” Joe blurts, because Nicky is not the only one who can be suave.

“You should.” And he’s gone before Joe can think about what exactly he’s doing here.

~~

Spending some more time with Nile seemed to be a good idea. Despite the impression he’d given Joe, Nicky was a devoted, good enough actor to want to do well on this.

And with his entire career hanging and hinging on this project, there was an anxiety within himself that he knew he’d never shake until the final product was out. Distracting himself and doing what he could to appear dedicated seemed to be the most logical solution.

So, with the script still being written and filming far off yet, he impulsively sent Nile a text about a month after their first meeting.

_Hi Nile, it’s Nicky. Do you have some time right now?_

Surprisingly, she responded faster than he’d expected.

_Yeah, I do. You wanting something?_

_I thought that we could get together, talk. Coffee?_

_Yeah alright._

So, there they were. Sitting across from each other at the coffee shop and listening to the sounds of general day to day life.

“I..think I should apologize.” Nicky said, carefully. “I know we did not get off on the right footing at all. Nor that I gave you a particularly good impression.”

If Nile was surprised, she didn’t show it, studying him across the small, square table.

“Start over?” She suggested, after a long silence.

“If we can, I’d like to.”

The rest of their conversation went easily after that, and they’d meet up when they had time. Just hanging out for a couple hours before they both had other commitments to attend to.

Well, Nile did.

Nicky mostly spent his time working out, and carefully searching everything Joe had ever written.

Joe.

Yusuf al-Kaysani, or Joe, had captivated him.

He’d read the Shadower book and owned it in hard copy and digital and was on his second read through when he’d decided to check out Joe’s other work. Nicky found that he immediately enjoyed the mans writing in those as much as he had in Shadower. Joe had a lovely, smooth way of writing that was both intense, witty and fun.

Somehow, it only took him a month to read, and finish everything that Joe had written, and some part of him believed that, somehow, he’d come to know a little bit about Joe through it.

Sure, it was pure crazy talk. It was not as if you could know an author through writings they provided for fictional characters. And yet, his tone of voice, his beliefs and sometimes how he saw the world crept into one writing.

His poetry.

Nicky had never been a huge poetry fan, himself. Preferring general literature to it. And yet, Joe’s poetry had intrigued him. Had shown him what he’d hoped was a glimpse into the man’s world. Things he felt, believed, saw. Pain he had experienced, understandings, love, happy memories. All of these felt presented with the writing.

And Nicky wanted to know more.

~~

Joe had a problem.

No, not a problem, not exactly. He’d be remiss to call it an actual, honest problem. But upon his little personal deep dive on Nicky, he’d found himself watching his older work when he wasn’t hammering out his script and sending bits to be revised.

Thus, break times seemed to consist of ‘watch Nicky’ times.

It only took three movies before Joe was completely fascinated. Maybe he didn’t know the ins and outs of film making (though he was getting a lot better with Andy’s various crash courses), but _some_ of what was presented on screen had to be Nicky’s personal talent as well. It was strange, for the first time, watching movies of someone he knew off-screen. He’d never experienced anything like it. And yet, it was easy enough to forget that Nicky on screen was Nicky. The contrasts were completely startling.

But then, he supposed that was the entire point and the talent of it all. It was also hard to convey the man he occasionally met when at work and putting his script to use with the man who had gotten booted from the industry for _punching a man on camera._

If Joe could put it bluntly in his head, Nicky was just..strange.

He didn’t really communicate that much with other people, but to be fair to him, he didn’t have as much to do right now with the script being written. Even still, he was charming in a blunt way whenever Joe did happen across him, and more soft-spoken than he’d been anticipating.

Absolutely nothing like the videos he’d watch. Nothing like the person who had a giant “you did this’ cloud hanging over his head.

He had googled the ominous Director Merrick and what he got was that the man was _popular_ and that it was hard to figure out what was truth and what was fact, as well as what was a conglomerate mix of both when he read through article after article.

Nothing really provided him any true insight, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask Nicky.

Oh well, his movie was over, and it was time to get back to writing anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

Months went by.

Joe’s script was finished before he realized it.

He’d only seen Nicky sporadically (and Nile and had barely met the rest of the cast) but the time it was finished, and Andy and the others helped him along with hammering out the final details. Getting it filming ready and adapting.

“Some things can be adapted in real time.” Andy said, going over a page again, “But having the main elements and the actual script is what we need. We can get it set up, give it to the cast and then start really getting everything into high gear.”

“You’re going to love it.” Lykon chimed, “Well, going to love it if you like working in long stretches. I do! Keeps the brain occupied and going doesn’t it?”

“Stimulated?” Booker suggested.

“Sure, go with that.” Lykon said. “Andy here is an beast when working, but it brings out the best in everyone.”

“Quynh’s worse.” Booker says, getting a rolled-up magazine bop to the forehead, “It is a necessary requirement if anyone wants to get anything done.” Quynh said, from directly behind him. Booker mockingly rubbing at his forehead, “Ow, where did you come from?”

“Your dreams.” She said, turning to Joe, “Hopefully you’re all set, things do get pretty monstrously busy from here on out.”

“Set as I can be.” Joe said.

“Good! You need to be.”

She wasn’t kidding.

Joe isn’t sure how much time passes between finishing up his script, and the day of the cast reading, but he knows it must have been a good chunk.

Or maybe it just _felt_ that way.

He’s adjusted to his temporary living situation well, and LA, mess that it is, feels _slightly_ less alien to him.

The table is long and white, and Joe’s coffee is a steaming, welcoming salvation within his hand. Holding more pens than he needs, his Ipad flat on the table, and his physical script staring back at him.

“Are you trying to challenge me?” He whispers to it, privately while he’s alone.

Predictably, he gets no response.

It’s mocking him all the same. It must be.

“Don’t you be smug, I’m nervous enough as it is.”

Silence.

“Yeah, yeah you do that. Keep giving me, your creator, the silent treatment.”

“Who’s giving you the silent treatment?”

Joe looks up, feeling a little guilty in a way that makes sense only on an embarrassing scale. “Nile! Good Morning. Ah, nothing. Writer, you know?” Not even trying to force an awkward laugh and make this worse, “Are..how did you sleep?”

“Great! I’m quite excited, you look tired though.”

Damn, he should have done a cold cloth to his face after all that morning. He did only have a couple hours sleep behind him. Nervous and excited as he was.

“Well, anticipation and all that makes it hard for one to settle.”

“Don’t I know it. So many pre-audition nights I’ve had almost no sleep.” She moved to sit by the table, a large purple purse tucked up under her arm. Even relaxed, she looked good, and legitimately as excited as she told Joe she was.

“Do you..” Joe hesitates, Nile setting her bag aside, pulling her own script out. “Nothing, sorry that’d be rude.”

“What?” She asked, moving a braid behind her head. “Something wrong?”

“No, but. I know that..well Nicky. Is it..you’re okay with this?”

He knew it wasn’t his place, but he wanted people comfortable. Happy. He didn’t want anyone to feel as if they were unwelcome.

“It’s alright.” She said, fiddling in her bag again for something, but her attention was fully on Joe. “He..we’ve talked. I won’t really know until we start working together, but I appreciate that he did make the effort to come to me himself.”

“That was good of him.”

She hummed, “It was. It..surprised me.”

“You wouldn’t expect something like that from him?”

“I wouldn’t know _what_ to expect from him.” She clarified, “And I never meant to jump the gun on him, but you have to be careful.”

“Sure, nobody can blame you for protecting your position, or yourself.”

“Still.” She put her bag back down, “Should all work out now. We’ll see.”

Joe started greeting people as they came in, Nicky was one of the last to arrive, looking both fatigued and wired for sound in the same expression. Though Joe swears he can see his face smoothing and warming when he catches sight of Joe. Taking the seat beside Andy, facing directly across from Nile and Joe, who sit side by side.

“Joe,” Nicky greets, Joe giving a short wave over his own script, “Nicky. All set?” Pretending like he can carry out a perfectly normal conversation and not be distracted by how bright and green Nicky’s eyes are. Or how well the black and grey t-shirt fits on him.

Or his soft, welcoming smile and easing of the slight minor tension that still permeated the room from other actors who still were not 100% on board with working with him.

Light chatter died down with Andy’s say-so, and the room goes quiet as they begin.

Nile has the first chunk of lines, and her speaking voice for them is both resonant and introspective. Joe loves it immediately, only asking if she could correct a single inflection near the bottom of the narrative. It’s an extremely easy fix, and Joe’s more than pleased.

Nicky’s lines didn’t start until around 15 pages in, so when he began, Joe found himself holding his breath.

He had changed his voice slightly, something mocking and cocky, and it was _glorious._ When that tone switched to a more serious one, it was no less intense, and Joe’s swallowing reflexively every four seconds or so.

He and Nile get a flow going easily, and there’s only a couple minor hiccups that would never be considered problematic.

By break time, Joe is quite sure he’s doomed.

~~

Joe was ready for this.

Joe was _ready_ for this.

Joe was _not fucking ready_ for this.

Movies, for whatever reason _started early as shit._

Not that he’d gotten much sleep to begin with. Not really. He was a deep sleeper, but there was an anxious thrum in his veins that refused to settle.

How had they gone from the script readings to ‘filming ready’ _this damned fast?_

 _Joe? Are you doing okay?_ Andy had texted him at just before 10pm the night before. Joe hastily typing back a nervous, perhaps overly enthused _‘yes perfect, thank you!’_ before taking a long shower and telling himself that he should _try_ to get some sleep.

 _You should try to be there no later than 7._ Andy had told him.

 _In the morning?_ Joe asked, getting an amused snort.

_Until the night shoots, yes._

So, there was his phone alarm, set for 5:30 am to give himself plenty of time. Joe laying in a cocoon of plush white duvet and staring helplessly up at the ceiling. The light in the hotel room blacked out mostly by the curtains, but not nearly dark enough to signal it as being truly late yet.

Joe didn’t know what to think of his situation, thus far.

It wasn’t that he was having _trouble,_ per se. Nile was beyond what he could have expected or even hoped for in such a case. There was an energy and thriving cleverness she’d been showing in their table reads and general rehearsing that had Joe more than comfortable and interested to see her in action. She asked him questions constantly, coming to him at random to gesture at a particular line or scenario and ask either if she could approach it this way, or suggest a certain element or quirk Joe hadn’t even thought of himself.

And they’d not even started putting it to camera yet. Joe had no doubt she’d be perfect. At least as best as someone so inexperienced as himself could surmise.

Andy was excellent as well. She had an abrasiveness at times, but it was clear she _knew_ what she was doing and was in charge for a reason. Flat out not afraid to tell Joe what would and wouldn’t work translated to screen, and what adjustments should be made.

(His script had so many notes in it that, at this point, it looked like a red and black ink catastrophe of chaos that people _seemed_ to understand)

The outlier, and the current cause of Joe’s anxiety was Nicky.

And the thing was, Nicky hadn’t given him any _reason_ for it to be such. Aside of the original tensions and mishaps of their first and earlier meetings, they’d been nothing but working civil with one another. What was driving Joe slightly mad was that he kept seemingly waiting for something disastrous. Or sign of would-be-divaness that had created the scandal in the first place.

It was so unfair, especially since Nicky had been nothing but kind to him thus far. And Joe had his entire filmography and more articles, pages and biographies he could count now under his belt, as his increasingly auto-filled Nicky searches would like to remind him, to understand that the man truly meant him, nor anyone else any harm. And for all intents and purposes seemed a perfectly nice man.

So why then was he so twitchy about it all?

Arrogance! Aggression, something that would make all his original unease worth it.

But Nicky was forever the _complete opposite_ to what Joe had anticipated. He was quiet when not actually working, didn’t seem to engage too deeply with anyone and had no trouble handling neither the material. He’d had a few meetings with Joe as Nile had. And, like Nile, had either suggestions or questions.

It was like having multiple edits at once, and Joe was not sure what to think of _so much_ additional input to his work. He had a nervous edge around Nicky and resolutely shoved it all aside to make working a good thing.

Joe’s didn’t think of himself as any kind of judgemental type, nor a shit disturber. And he felt good about what was to come. Nicky clearly had the talent and foresight that had made him well known and respected _in the first place._

Which was the other issue of Joe not able to pinpoint what the issue was. Either the man was desperately trying to be on his best behaviour, or there was something else occurring and Joe was reading too much into his own ignorance.

Thus, Joe got almost no sleep.

That was starting to become a common theme for him.

Set was chilly, the sky was still in it’s rising of morning and a faint orange-pink when he arrived, desperately clinging to a gloriously steaming double-espresso coffee in a paper cup and pretending he knew what he was supposed to be doing.

A PA Joe had embarrassingly forgotten the name of and made a note to ask later led him to the actual set, where Andy was waiting for everyone else.

“Joe!” She waved with two fingers, gesturing mostly behind herself, focused on some screen. “You made it. I’m glad, you said you were concerned you’d over-sleep.”

“One usually has to sleep before they over-sleep.” Joe said, mentally cringing at his own bluntness. But Andy was only chuckling, fond if quiet.

“Excited?”

“Among other things.”

“What other things could those be?”

Joe turned, not at the point where he recognized Nicky’s voice by sound alone and stopped dead midway through doing so.

“Don’t interrupt.” Andy admonished from his front, but Joe only dimly registered her doing so, caught up entirely in staring at what seemed to be a near-perfect manifestation of his thoughts in physical form.

And Joe had _exactly no clue_ how to deal with that.

When Joe had created Shadower in his head, he worked off a general concept. Noir had set character designs. Trench coats, suits, dress shirts and sweaters. Expertly cut pants and haircuts that seemed to be both part gel and part hairspray, yet ‘attractively mused’. Trope fueled glory that never got old. Wide brimmed hats, fedoras. Cigars and cognacs.

Sharp perfume, close-fitting ball gowns, smooth silks, and thigh-slit blood red dresses.

Thus, he incorporated all the original goodness of such in Shadower’s design. Close cropped, styled slicked back light-brown hair, sometimes flecked with gold if the sun hit it right, sharp blue eyes that could come across as either cold or inviting, depending on the character’s mood and general approach (perhaps a little mischievous or openly honest if Shadower was needing to manipulate someone), and an aura that could be tailored to the environment and will.

He had several outfits, Joe making use of all of them. Everything from the crisp freshly ironed dress shirts and pants under blazers and knotted ties to looser fitting khaki’s and sweaters. In the story, each outfit suited the situation and scenario at hand.

Since the book itself (and thus, the movie) had few day-time scenes, and this morning’s being one of the only ones, it put Shadower in day clothing. Which, in this case meant that the costume department and make up had dressed Nicky-come-Shadower in a navy-blue 3-piece suit. It was well fit and expertly cut. Joe could only assume it had been tailored. The jacket was laying open, revealing the waistcoat and crisp white dress shirt. The dark blue tie disappeared mid-chest into the waistcoat, and Joe could see the (currently empty, he guessed props came later) holster beneath the jacket, laying flat and just into Nicky’s chest, strapped around his upper arms and vanishing beneath the jacket.

His hair had been changed _completely._ Where it had usually been sort of hanging loose just before it touched his shoulders, it was now mostly slicked back and holding fast to his head, except where half of it had escaped and was hanging attractively just over his left ear. They’d removed his earrings and done something to make his face look a touch more lined than it was.

He had stubble and some very fine beard growth, and the entire look was making Joe’s mind blank entirely.

He also, Joe noted _smelled amazing._ And he almost choked with the effort it took to swallow that fact. His wrists had diamond-shaped blue cufflinks, and a black strapped (fake) gold faced Rolex on it.

Joe wasn’t five, he _knew_ what make up and costuming _could_ do. But something about it all, complete with the light fleck of amusement he _knew_ would be shining in those gorgeous eyes later was giving him a taste of what it’d be like to see his idea put so expertly on camera.

“Joe?”

Joe blinked, again, his coffee clutched in hand like a lifeline, Nicky’s smile faltering some at the reaction he was being given. “Are you..?”

“I’m fine!” Joe cut him off, Nicky’s frown deepening some. “Sorry! I uh, I didn’t..I didn’t sleep.”

Nicky doesn’t seem to be frowning, not exactly, but he doesn’t seem entirely convinced, either. “Is the hotel not accommodating? If it’s uncomfortable we can-“

“No!” Joe panics without meaning to, slowing himself down. “No, no it is alright, it’s not that it is unaccommodating, far from it. There’s just-it’s nerves, you know?” Joe’s finding himself nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “Anticipation. Excitement..and uh, well I’m not much of a morning person.”

At that, Nicky does laugh. In a way that stretches across his entire face. Illuminated and lit, absolutely glowing in the adapting stage lights nearby.

Joe is _fucking doomed._

~~

There is a lot of stop and go with filming, Joe is coming to see.

Andy had decided to block out all the daytime scenes over the course of a few weeks, with some adjustment as needed. Most of _Shadower_ took place at night, so they’d have to switch to filming as needed.

Joe’s _exhausted_ and he can tell others are as well by the second week. He’d not known what to expect when watching filming but was overall finding the process a bit strange.

Nicky, Nile, and the rest of the cast were doing great. Much like within the table reads, they were bringing what they knew to the film and getting along smoother than he could have hoped. Even if he at times found it difficult to get a real feel for things while the cameras were on them and the dialogues were broken up with instructions, set changes, and other background work Joe had never seen the scope of before and was fascinated and amazed by to see it in action.

Still, he’s grateful when the rapid filming ends, and they can move on to something a little less crunched and demanding.

~~

Time passes in a hazy flurry.

One day, Nicky doesn’t have any scenes, and he sends Joe a text for the first time since they’d exchanged numbers.

_Hey Joe_

_Nicky here_

_Call me nuts, but I think I told you I did archery once?_

Shit! Joe had forgotten entirely. Well, no, not forgotten, but he’d bailed on asking Nicky to send the photos he’d promised.

Nerves of steel, Yusuf al-Kaysani, nerves of steel.

_Nicky hello, yes, I think you did._

The response is immediate.

_Well, I was thinking!_

_Would you like to see me practice?_

_After you’re finished_

_I’ll give you the location of the gym._

Joe’s heart thrusts straight into his throat, oxygen instantly overridden in favour of the mental images plaguing his head.

_Is that a good idea?_

Great! Excellent, Joe. He’ll love that.

_Sorry!_

_I just._

_Well._

Maybe he’d let Nicky talk.

It wasn’t like they’d not..whatever before. Every time they were in one another’s presence there was a strange, heated tension as they danced around conversations and joked.

Nor was Joe going to pretend for a hot second, he wasn’t slowly getting more and more enticed by Nicky’s presence.

The ‘diva attitude’ he’d been anticipating so much at the beginning had never once come to pass, and Joe had stopped pretending like it was going to. Coming to the conclusion that whatever had happened with Merrick must have had some sort of justification, or reason. Because absolutely nothing about Nicky reconciled with the man he’d seen so briefly in that video.

Or he was on his best behaviour right now.

But still, Joe had to be fair and give the guy credit.

 _I don’t see it being a problem._ Nicky’s reply read.

_Unless you don’t want to._

He wanted to! Of course, he wanted to.

_I’ll come_

Shit.

_Oh, great!_

_Here’s the address._

Joe was _fucking doomed._

~~

Somewhere, Joe thought, the universe was toying with him.

He found Nicky easily enough, following the explicit directions that he’d been given. The man standing shirtless in front of a large target, bow in front of himself, arrow drawn back and ready to strike.

If Nicky notices his presence, he makes no attempt to say so, focused wholly on his target. His hairs slicked back a little, giving him a clear line of sight. Joe wouldn’t consider him ‘jacked’, but something far more appealing to his eyes. Muscles that did their job without being dramatic about it, solid planes and bone-deep, hyper focused concentration that drew Joe in completely.

His pants are a tight legging style in dark blue and fit to his body so well Joe feels personally obscene just from _looking._

Everything in the room narrows down to just Nicky. Just to the burning, fixated gaze aligned with the target. Hard lines of knowledge and know how that make Joe weak in the knees.

The arrow fires, a short burst of activity that hits the target near the centre. Not quite the bullseye, not at all shabby either.

Joe clears his throat, and that intense face softens instantly, Nicky setting the bow to his side to come closer.

“Joe! You came.”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t sound too confident on it.”

“Maybe not but..I’m here now?”

Nicky grins, “That you are..”

He starts to approach, as does Nicky,

They stop inches from each other, staring at one another across the small space like they’ve both forgotten how precisely to think.

Silence drags out. Joe makes to speak and finds he can’t make words happen. Nicky makes a noise that’s something like a would be cough and draws it back.

“I should..get my arrow.” Nicky says, finally, awkwardly.

Right, arrow.

“Are you done?” Joe asks, voice hoarse. He’s only wearing a light cotton long sleeve shirt, but he feels congested by it instantly.

“I..yeah, yeah no, I’m done yeah. Wait here?”

Nicky moves to his target in four quick strides, frees his arrow and sets it back to where it belongs in his gear.

“Wait, where are we going?”

Nicky had asked him to watch his practice, Joe hadn’t been anticipating anything after that.

Nicky hesitates as he grabs his shirt.

“My hotel room?”

_Shit._

_Fuck._

_Hell._

_Joe is fucking doomed._

He could say no.

He could easily turn right now on his heel. Make excuses. Tell Nicky it’s a _monstrously_ bad idea. That there’s no way this could go well. That the very man in question is under threat to be on his best behaviour.

As if _any of_ those options sounded remotely appealing to him.

If Joe thought about how much time he spent not working thinking about Nicky, he’d shove it away and scream denial. Not willing to be confronted with the idea that he was falling for him.

Which was ridiculous. It had to be ridiculous, right? They could not be more different. Nor in different positions. He didn’t know everything about Nicky. In fact, he probably knew less than he knew of him. What could research, longing and odd moments of hanging out during work prove to him about anything?

“Or out.” Nicky says, interrupting Joe’s thoughts. “I work tomorrow but there’s plenty that can be done too. I just thought maybe, you know.”

“Room.” Joe says. “The hotel room” He clarifies. Because maybe Nicky was the one-night stand type. Maybe he was lonely.

Maybe him having figured out Joe’s coffee order on his own didn’t mean that much.

Maybe the strange teasing grins he gave him during breaks in between filming didn’t mean much.

They rarely had any one-on-one time together, but when they were together and not working, there was always an odd moment that made Joe feel warm and soothed.

Nicky’s in front of him again, wearing a shirt and carrying his gear. Joe’s rapid-fire thought processes dying out with his presence.

He makes like he’s about to ask Joe if he’s sure, but shakes his head, as if his own brain can’t come up with anything more intelligent. “This way, come on.”

~~

Joe stopped thinking halfway around the block to the hotel.

From the way Nicky slammed him up against the door the second it was closed; he imagines Nicky did too.

He’s feisty, hot, and intense all at once, moving at a pace Joe can barely keep up with, nearly winded by the biting kiss he receives. It’s all Joe can do to get his own mouth open to return it, head lifting eagerly to give just as good as he’s getting, moaning deeply when Nicky’s tongue pushes in and finds a place to lick at his own.

“Your eyes are so pretty.” Nicky says when he pulls back only far enough to breathe. Joe still trying to draw oxygen into his lungs, tipping his head back against the door. “I’ve been obsessed with them, always trying to catch a good sight on them when I can. When I think maybe you’re not looking.”

Maybe Joe wasn’t the only one getting obsessed. He isn’t entirely sure what to do with that information nor has he enough brain power to consider it currently.

“Really, you think so?” His voice feels raw even from the initial contact. Nicky’s hand coming up to cup the side of his face, thumb stroking against the underside of his left eye.

“I do, they draw me in. Make me want to open up to them, fall into their depths and see where they take me.”

Fuck, where did _this_ Nicky come from?

“Who knew you were such a smooth-talking romantic?” Joe panted; Nicky’s voice silky in his ear when he laughs.

“When the mood strikes, you’ll find that I can be quite compelling.”

Of that he had no doubt.

“Nicky.”

There’s a finger to his lips, and Joe’s more than fine with Nicky doing exactly what he wants, and how he wants to. Even more so as he watches Nicky sink down to his knees, pushing Joe’s shirt up with his hands as he goes.

“Nicky, Nicky.”

Nicky hums softy, gently rubbing his cheek against Joe’s stomach. “Beautiful. Smooth, intoxicating. I knew you would be, but I think you would be anyway.”

“Are you _trying_ to break me?” Joe whimpers.

He’s given a soft chuckle in response, Nicky looking up at him, steady and peaceful and Joe cannot breathe.

“Depends, I suppose. Might be quite pretty.”

Joe groans, letting the door take his head again, because if he keeps looking down at Nicky he’ll lose his mind.

His hand finds Nicky’s hair without thinking, and Nicky leans immediately into it, pushing into Joe’s hand.

Oh, so he likes that.

Joe flexes his fingers, only distantly aware that Nicky’s unzipping his pants, spreading his legs almost subconsciously to give Nicky more room. Taking the steadiest breaths, he can muster.

When Nicky hums, and flicks his tongue across the head of his cock, Joe shudders with his entire body, keening, hand tightening in Nicky’s short, thick hair. Everything around Joe starts to fizzle and blur around the edges, Nicky’s short swipes from his tongue and slow licks up him driving Joe quietly insane.

He’s _seconds_ from begging, hand fisted in the back of Nicky’s scalp before he feels solid warmth surrounding him, Nicky finally taking him in with a slow pull of his lips. Monstrously slow, wonderfully perfect. Encouraging Joe to keep up the steady pressure with his own fingers, nails dragging across Joe’s thighs as he takes him further and further.

Joe’s legs shake and tremble, his thighs flex and Nicky moves his mouth, slowly, encouraging Joe’s own movements. Working him up and coaxing him in turn, groaning softly when he can with the pressure from Joe’s fingers.

There’s heat and pressure and Joe can’t breathe or think, and Nicky moves a little faster and Joe growls without meaning to. The sound low in his throat and drawn-out.

Nicky tightens his lips a moment, before slowly coming off, pulling back as Joe gently eases his hand out of his hair, using Joe’s thighs to pull himself up and meeting him for a kiss Joe’s only to eager to give.

“Joe.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Joe pants, Nicky nibbling softly at Joe’s neck, grunting in unison with him while Joe’s own fingers slip Nicky’s leggings down his hips, down towards his thighs to take him in hand, moaning softy at the heaviness of his cock in his own palm. Nicky’s is still on his own, and he bats Joe’s hand away to line them both up himself, starting a heavy stroking that leaves Joe keening and Nicky panting heavily, rhythmically in Joe’s ear.

Joe’s close faster than he wants to be, but Nicky only bites messily at his ear and Joe can’t hold on and cants forward, relying on Nicky bracketing him as his legs shake and he release in a slow, short gasp. Fully overtaken and delirious when Nicky quickly follows suit, making the most _adorable_ little huffing noise in his ear as he does so.

“Good thing you have such large hands.” Joe chuckles, when he can think of something coherent to say.

Nicky laughs, breathless and surprised, pulling Joe into another kiss that is lazier and slower than the ones before and no less perfect.

~~

Maybe that was why they called it a song and dance, Joe wonders to himself, at some undefined time later.

“You’re awake.”

He sits up, startled a second to realize he’s neither alone nor in his own hotel room, Nicky sitting on the edge of the bed near his feet, some of the covers in his lap, studying Joe curiously.

“Were you watching me sleep?” He asked, hoping if he kept talking, it’d quiet the obnoxious panicked thudding in his heart.

“Might’ve been.” Nicky’s voice is so soft Joe feels everything clench internally. Taking a deep, steady breath.

“Are you-“ He starts, but Joe cuts him off.

“This, shit..this was a..bad idea.” Joe’s not generally one to panic, not like this. Rarely has he had any sort of ‘morning after’ panic.

Regret? Sure, once, or twice.

But this was different.

Nicky sighs, looking away finally, “Yeah, maybe.”

When Joe’s met by continued silence, he tries to sit himself up, pushing with his elbows to lift himself. “Only maybe? Nicky, fuck.” Joe feels _so guilty._ This wasn’t a good idea. If Nicky got in trouble for screwing around, it was going to be Joe’s fault. He could _hear_ Nicky in the back of his mind, echoing what Andy had told him before the filming had even begun. About how he absolutely had to be on his best behaviour. About how any misstep could be disastrous. If any sort of possible knowledge of him ‘misbehaving’ got around that it’d threaten everything she’d been working toward for him.

And Joe, like some hyped-up teenager, had managed to threaten that because he decided not to contain himself. Under the guise of pretending that he couldn’t.

But couldn’t all decisions be made? Were not most choices like that conscious ones?

“Joe.” Nicky’s not moved away, in fact, he’d moved closer, his hand reaching out. Joe debates pushing it away, and, like before, can’t.

Or maybe he could and was just pretending otherwise, like it was somehow easier.

Nicky’s hand finds the back of his neck, the rest of him eventually migrating to Joe’s lap, straddling him casually. The movement effectively, efficiently putting a startling halt on Joe’s higher power of thinking, settling him and dragging the rising tide in his gut to a nervous flutter.

“I’m sor-“

“Don’t” Nicky warns, “Don’t say I’m sorry. Especially because I know you don’t mean it.”

The wave of guilt returns, swallowed by a sudden kiss that brings him infuriatingly back to the present, back to the warmth Nicky presents and provides, to the security of being _known._

“No, this was not the best decision we could have made.” Nicky admits, “Yes, this was probably going to be a bad idea. But we made the decision together, did we not? Of the numerous scandals I could be getting up to right now, this is the least of them.”

“But Andy-“

“Said I had to behave at all costs, yes. This is..we’ll be careful. But this is a minor thing at best. Depending on how it plays out.”

It sounded too good to be true. “You could look at a butterfly funny and have people clamoring to headline it with something stupid.” Joe says, “How could this not be considered a problem?”

“..Why a butterfly?”

The question stops Joe’s thought process, and he starts flushing. “No particular reason. Butterflies are beautiful.”

“So why would I be looking at it funny, then?”

“I don’t _know,”_ Joe retorts, exasperated, “Maybe it did something offensive, who can say?”

“The point.” Nicky says, over his faint laughter, “Is that I wanted you.”

Joe swallows, thick, rough.

“You’re too bold for your own good.”

“I’ve been told. Some have equated it to my being an asshole.”

“No, not so. Not to me. But bold.” Joe said, leaning in further to his touch. Nicky’s hands were so large, the one holding the side of his face seemed to cover it nearly entirely. Sighing, he lets the thoughts quiet, even though he knows there’s no way for it to be a solved issue at present.

But still, he could deal with that later. When Nicky felt less warm, his hands less strong, and his lips less tasteful.

But in present, those were an all-out distraction.

And Joe didn’t make it back to his own hotel room until the next day.


	6. Chapter 6

Filming continued, as did all the bits and pieces in between.

Andy and Quynh ran a tight ship, and there was rarely much time to do anything but work except at break times. Joe didn’t usually have to make too many adjustments to his script, but there was the odd scene he’d written in that wasn’t translating well that he’d need to change entirely.

There was a particular moment of inner conflict with Marlon that Nile was having some trouble getting right as Joe had pictured it, but after some work with her, they’d found a happy medium and finally pulled the scene off before they had to wrap up for the night.

The night filming was what Joe found challenging. He’d been looking forward to it since it meant fewer early mornings, but the dark locations could make it hard to find the energy. And the impossibly bright artificial lights created a strange, dazed sensation in his brain.

But they made it work, and Joe was standing back while Nicky, Nile and three other actors worked through a scene.

“You alright?”

Joe turned his head, Booker was hovering near him, watching the scene as well. “You keep looking at them funny, everything okay?”

“How do you mean?” He asked, finding Booker’s cryptic way of speaking odd.

“Nicky, I mean, he’s pretty yeah but you look dazed man.”

Joe huffed, “I don’t have the first clue what you could be talking about.”

“Sure sure, suit yourself.” Booker says, but Joe can see the grin toying at his lips.

_Shit._

~~

Joe could have assumed it was a one-time thing, and that Booker was pulling his leg and surely, truly he was not that obvious.

But when he found Lykon alone in the canteen, fresh from a hasty Nicky make-out and got met by a terrifying knowing grin Joe thought that he might have to reconsider how non-obvious they were-or weren’t being.

“Joe, hey-“

Joe had been meaning to get coffee but couldn’t stand the grin and made a hasty excuse to find something else to do. Something far away from the canteen and anyone who could possibly read his mind.

~~

Really, they couldn’t be that obvious.

Maybe Joe looked a bit calmer than he had months before, hell a year before at this rate. Maybe Nicky seemed more playful than he had in ages. More relaxed.

And maybe they just happened to be near each others space when they were allowed too be. Maybe there was something to be said of it.

When Nile finally corners him just before dawn after a long night shoot, and casually mentions that Joe might as well give up his hotel room if he’s going to live in Nicky’s, he accepts defeat.

~~

“They know.” Joe said, when Nicky leaned in for a cheek kiss as they arrived at his hotel room that same morning.

Nicky sighed, pulling back to double check the lock on the door. “Yeah, Andy and Quynh already came for me.”

“Shit..what did..are you okay?”

Joe hadn’t wanted to make trouble. He knew how tentative this all was. “I told you this was going to be a problem, going to be trouble. I thought maybe it was being kept secret and that nobody would catch on and that maybe we could make it work and-“

A finger finds his lips, Nicky’s eyes soft when they meet Joe’s. “Hey, hey. Look at me. It’s okay, Joe. You didn’t make this choice yourself, as I told you before. Andy isn’t going to do anything. We behave on set. All she said was to be careful, though she did give me a touch of grief.”

Joe sighs, “She trusts you that much?”

Nicky glanced down a moment.

“Someone has to.”

Joe felt his stomach clench but didn’t really know what to say to that.

_Don’t I?_

It’s unfair to say. Because he knows he still has the odd misgiving.

“..Joe?”

Nicky’s staring right at him, Joe lifts his head, Nicky’s so close and Joe simply must touch him, so he does. His fingers finding Nicky’s, pleased when the man squeezes back immediately.

“Do you?”

Does he?

Of all things, he’s come to know Nicky as playful, charming, introspective, and intense. He knows that he reads a _lot_ and tends to get heated over the most random things that might be perceived as bizarre or strange.

(Joe had never heard such strong opinions about awfully specific medieval art but was getting _quite_ the crash course from Nicky’s secondary interest whenever they had time to hang out alone).

“I trust what I know.” Joe finally says, and Nicky seems to understand him immediately, his head falling forward with a sigh.

“I’ve never talked about it. Not really.”

Joe refuses to move his hand, and maybe he’s making a huge mistake, but he boldly guides Nicky to the bed, encouraging him to sit and sliding into his lap.

Whether he’s giving comfort or preventing escape, Joe’s not sure, but Nicky seems pleased and immediately wraps his arms around Joe’s waist.

“Why haven’t you?”

“It seemed pointless.” Nicky says, “And as if, at the end of the day, it was going to be more problematic than not to speak of it. When they told me to just settle out of court, it seemed the most logical thing. Did the anger management classes seem pointless? Sure. But what else was I supposed to do?”

“There’s never any sound in those videos.” Joe says, without thinking. Nicky hesitating the moment he says it.

“So, you’ve seen them? Shit, of course, you have, how could you not? Everyone has.”

“I’ve seen them, as non-contextual as they are.” Joe says, “What confuses me is why you never defended yourself.”

Maybe that’s unfair to say, and Nicky’s soft, slight cringe tells him as much. But if they are having this conversation anyway, Joe feels a little compelled to keep going.

“What was the point? I can’t fight against someone with that kind of status, not without being crushed. People saw what was filmed, they do not care what happened before or after.”

“How do you know that?” Joe urges, “Isn’t half the issue that you didn’t try to defend it?”

“Yeah, half assed apologies don’t come across well for any redemption.” The sudden bitterness Joe hears thick on his tongue, “I could speak to any interviewer, any camera, and all they’ll understand or see is some guy who punched a well-known director. I didn’t have a good defense. The damage had been done. I figured I’d just..settle out of court, do my anger management classes, and that’s it. Find a new career and consider it a good run.”

“Do you believe that?” Joe asks.

“No, but what other choice did I have?”

Joe growls, frustrated, crawling off him. This time, Nicky makes no attempt at holding him still.

“You know, of all the things you’ve said, the things you’ve done and our other conversations, the one thing that sticks is that you believe in yourself. You believe in who you are, you believe in your morals, your attitude. You don’t _let_ people dictate your values. You’re a bricked-up wall to peoples influences and decisions. And I can’t reconcile that with someone who’s now saying that it’s all okay, it’s fine to be defeated. That doesn’t sound anything like the Nicky I’ve been talking with for the last few months.”

Nicky says nothing, shuffling off the bed, rooting around the dresser of the hotel room, back to Joe. “I learned my lesson.”

“Did you?” Joe asks, swallowing, “Because to me it sounds like you’re acquiescing for convenience sake.”

“You don’t know what happened.” Nicky argues.

“No!” Joe shouts, but lowers his voice fast, “No I don’t, nobody does! Only Andy seems to know the whole story. I’m not the media, you don’t have to defend yourself to me, but I could use _some_ clarity here. And it baffles me that someone as headstrong and shameless about himself as you are so willing to keep this under wraps.”

He’s turned himself around now, Nicky’s paused at the dresser. He sighs, finally, breaking the silence and looking defeated.

“Because..it wasn’t just..one thing, Joe. I didn’t like Merrick from day one. And he didn’t like me.”

Maybe Nicky isn’t even meaning to talk, but he is now, and Joe has no goal of stopping him.

“He had this, god, this fucking _attitude_ that made your skin crawl. All the PA’s got called various names of ‘hey you’ or ‘that one, get me this’ like they were personal servants. They’re low enough on the ladder anyway but jeeze, come _on._ He didn’t like that I was as out as I was, always tried to reassure people that ‘real men who want to be powerful in the world do real things’ and about how sometimes it didn’t matter if you were with someone you hated if it was a good status symbol. Just such fucking archaic shit!”

‘There was no, there was never any one particular thing. The day that I punched him.” Nicky grimaces. “I guess we’d been arguing. We always argued. But when the camera was on, I tried to do my job. I know how to do my job and do it well. But he was just being so obnoxious. And when he called ‘cut’ he stomped over to me already bitchin’ and I just couldn’t take it anymore. This clown who’d spent the entirety of the day before bossin’ and fuckin’ around this poor woman, barely fuckin’ 19 with useless orders and acting like fuckin’ Henry the 8th and just..his smug face and-“

He sighs, strong, and heavy. “The damage was done instantly. After the punch, I dropped my hand, he yelled-that part is seen on camera. But I knew it was over. I didn’t even bother getting out of costume. I went to my trailer, grabbed my bag, and left. There was no coming back from it and I knew that without one specific catalyst? There’d be no point defending it.”

Joe lets the moment hang there, lets Nicky squint down at the dresser’s top. Watches the movement of his fingers as they start to tap along its woodgrain.

“Do you regret it?”

Joe doesn’t know why he asks that, and from the expression he gets from Nicky, he doesn’t either.

“What?”

“Do you regret it?”

Nicky seems thrown, Joe’s moving again, entering Nicky’s immediate space. “Nicky. _Do you regret punching Merrick?”_

He doesn’t seem to know how to answer Joe’s question, and Joe thinks of all the things for Nicky he’s been studying the last little while. Thinking of the proud, un-abashed and determined man giving interview after interview. Answering directed, pointed questions with the utmost clarity and strong affirmations.

_“You’ve been out since you began acting.” An interviewer would state. As if trying to throw him off._

_“Since day one” Nicky would reply._

_“Do you ever think about the kind of messages you send to younger audiences being so open?” Another would try._

_“I think the message is clear. There’s no wrong way to be.” His expression steel._

_“Is having female love interests a challenge?” One even attempted once, in some weird reverse-psychology bid._

_“If you look up the definition of ‘actor’ you’ll notice it clearly emphasizes playing a character that is not yourself for a media outlet.” Nicky retorted, sassy, biting._

“Because.” Joe continues, “I don’t think you do, and I think that may be why you’ve never been able to discuss it publicly. You can’t apologize for what you don’t regret.”

Nicky stares at him, half in outrage, half in what Joe can see is grim acceptance. “And I don’t know if you realized that yourself.” Joe clarifies.

Silence follows, but Joe’s feeling confident and not willing to back down. Maybe their relationship had been this bizarre whirlwind that seemingly came out of nowhere and maybe there was still a hell of a lot they didn’t know about each other. But Joe knew one thing.

He wasn’t a pushover. Out of his element? Sure, at first. But he was learning. And for all Nicky’s brashness and determination, he was no less full of feeling and concern than Joe was and maybe these waters felt murky and uncertain, but they were waters and Joe could swim.

And from what he was seeing and learning, so could Nicky.

“Shit.” Nicky says, cursing under his breath in quick Italian Joe can’t understand.

That’s the confirmation Joe needs, crossing the room to cut the space between them, drawing an arm around Nicky’s waist.

“Andy can’t be the only person in your corner. I don’t know what sort of choices you’re going to make. Or how this is going to come out. Is the movie going to succeed? Will your status ever come back to a point where you can turn to Merrick and put him in his place? Maybe, maybe not. And maybe I don’t know right shit about how any of these inner politics go or if a bad person will ever get what he deserves but I am _learning_ about _you,_ Nicky, and I want to be here. I want to help. I want to see things through.”

Nicky leans in, defeated, Joe can feel him trembling against his shoulder, his chest, his breath in his hair.

“I can’t predict the future.” Joe continues, “And I don’t know what I’m doing, but neither does anyone. I like you, and I want to be with you.”

“I..I want to be with you too, but that’s not all of it. I don’t want to see your name dragged through the mud either, Joe. Not with your first movie, not with everything you could want hanging right there. You don’t deserve me coming along and cutting a cord that’s only started being wound.”

Joe tightens his grip, hard enough that he can feel their ribs against one another’s, can feel the nerves pulsing beneath Nicky’s skin.

“I’m a grown man. Let me make my own decisions.”

Nicky huffs, slow and short.

“Alright.”

~~

Andy shouting ‘CUT’ for the final time jerks Joe out of a daze he wasn’t aware he’d been in. Startled and confused when everyone starts clapping and hugging.

It was the last day.

It was done.

Filming was over. It was all up to the crew to get it together. Shadower would be on a large screen before he realized it. It was happening and real and he had Nile’s arms around him, Lykon’s. He had Booker slapping his back and hugging him tight enough to make him wheeze and Quynh beaming and Andy pulling him into her own tight grip, and they’d done it.

They’d done it.

When all the technical aspects were complete it’d be there, and Joe would have a brand-new film of his creation staring right back at him.

His creation brought out from his memories, desires, and straight imagination. Brought to life by a team he couldn’t have even dreamed of and Andy is talking in his ear and telling him about how they’d be in touch as they worked on editing and final details and getting it all put together and he can barely think.

“Andy, thank you. Everyone. Thank you. I can hardly believe this is happened and is real. That I arrived here in LA over a year ago and have adjusted to this whirlwind so fast and-“

He stops himself, choking up without realizing it. A hand slides into his own, and Joe’s eyes go wide as Nicky, still in costume, smiles and captivates Joe’s higher thinking abilities for good.

Joe gestures dumbly at his outfit, white dress shirt, open collared, empty holster around the shoulders and black suit pants to tight to be legal.

(Or maybe that’s only in Joe’s mind)

“Thank _you,_ Joe.” He says, so soft and sweet and perfect and Joe can’t handle it. “After all, this is your baby.”

“No.” Joe shakes his head, “Now it’s _ours._ ”

And yes, by that, he did mean everyone.

~~

LA sparkles and shines brightly outside Nicky’s hotel room window as they stand side-by-side, hip-to-hip in front of it. Nicky’s got a bottle of beer clutched between his fingers, Joe chewing slowly on a fruit skewer.

“Hard to believe it’s over.” He muses, staring out at the ink-black sky. “Feels like just yesterday I was being picked up at the airport. Not having the faintest idea of what was to come and what to expect. Only hoping that maybe I could make something good.”

“You did make something good.” Nicky says, having another sip, “You made something wonderful Joe. But more than that, you let me find you.”

Joe turns his head, eyes softening as Nicky continues to stare out at LA. “You found me yourself.” But Nicky shakes his head, slowly. “No, I’d never..when Andy originally called me, asking me about this movie. I thought she was crazy. I thought she was nuts. I told her as much. I asked her how she could dare make such a choice. How someone with her popularity could make such a big risk at my expense. But once Andy has made her mind up, nobody tells her no. And what was I going to say to a chance to come back? I didn’t even know then if I wanted to come back, but maybe deep down I knew.”

“Acting is what you excel in. It’s what you know. Though sometimes, I find it hard to believe the man I’m speaking with now was the same as before.”

Nicky chuckles, and does face Joe at that. “I could have given everyone a better impression. I just didn’t know what to do.”

“No,” Joe meets him with his own turn, nose bumping along Nicky’s. “I think things happened precisely as they were meant to.”

“Such a romantic, you are.”

“Speak for yourself Mr. ‘I want to paint pictures in your skin’.”

“Did I say that?”

“Once, and then you left because the shooting started.”

“I left you hanging, how rude of me.”

Joe takes his beer from his hand, setting it behind himself, the skewer to the plate, eyes back to Nicky’s in seconds, “You won’t be leaving me hanging now.” Bringing him into a kiss that Nicky takes instantly, greedily. His hands move fast and find their pathway down Joe’s back, creating shivers down Joe’s spine that make him crave more as the burn is left in the wake of Nicky’s hands. Unable to hold the kiss when Nicky’s hands palm at his rear and draw him in, flexing against flesh through cloth and wanting everything at once.

Joe tugs on him, the beds close and it’s easy to let Nicky push him back and back until he can fall, instantly covered with Nicky, his scent, his loose falling hair, his eager hands and willing mouth.

Nicky sucks gently along Joe’s Adam’s Apple and draws a sharp keen from him that leaves him whining and whimpering. Hands move too fast along Joe’s buttons, too warm and large against his chest.

“Drawer,” Nicky says, helpfully, from his kisses at Joe’s sternum, “Nightstand.” To clarify for Joe’s addled brain.

He can’t bring himself to tear away, so Joe makes a hasty, messy fumbling of opening the drawer blindly with his hand to find what Nicky wanted, handing him the tube in a daze, eyes glassy where they watch the movement of Nicky’s head and hands.

“So beautiful. So, so beautiful.” Joe isn’t entirely sure if Nicky is speaking to him, himself, or both. But he does know that it feels incredible. That Nicky’s short grazes of his fingers, slick when they find his entrance are momentarily all he can focus on. All he can do to roll down against them and accept them inside.

Belatedly, Joe works another hand into Nicky’s hair, tugging just so, eliciting a sharp moan that fills him with pride and desire in equal turn, rocking his own hips more insistently against Nicky’s fingers. The bottle lays discarded by Nicky’s hip, and Joe makes a pointless gesture at him to his fly.

Nicky works himself open with his own free hand, leaning in turn to Joe’s tugging pressure on his scalp as Joe slicks his palm and finds his cock, hard and solid against his stomach, pulling it into his own hand to accept the weight and draw those full-bodied shivers through Nicky that fascinate and excite him.

“Joe, please.” Nicky pants out, Joe loving how thick and raspy his voice becomes in pleasure.

“Yes.” Nodding as eagerly as he can against the pillow, “Yeah, come on, Nicky.” Letting his own hand fall away, bracing his back into the mattress and trying desperately to watch Nicky’s face. Eager as he is to capture every moment as he slowly pushes forward, sinks in, and brings heat to Joe’s spine harsh and demanding enough that his eyes flutter shut. Slow gasps pulled straight from the core of his chest.

When Joe finds it too much, needing more and wanting that glorious, fulfilling pressure he tugs on Nicky’s hair, pulling him down into a kiss and making a demanding noise against his lips that draws a breathless laugh from Nicky. But is instantly rewarded with movement that is slow enough to bring him bliss and fast enough to make him groan and gasp.

The air warms quickly, the static in Joe’s ears a delirious glory. Hands that refuse to stay still move from Nicky’s hair to his neck, his shoulders, legs to his waist, to draw him deeper and make them both growl; fingers to his back and up his spine and lips to Nicky’s. To his neck and collarbone, to his chest and back to his lips.

Unable to see through the blurring in his eyes, unable to hear through the pressure roaring through his ears, able to feel and sense and know and bring Nicky closer and delight in the sudden quickening of his hips that Joe is only too eager to meet, unable to hold back the startled cry when Nicky seizes and pulses within him and warmth floods and Joe whimpers into the touch on his own too sensitive cock. Drawn into white noise static when he finally releases against Nicky’s palm and his own chest.

Joe drifts, dazed, and kisses Nicky’s sweaty temple in his haze. Nicky’s arms tighten and Joe feels wholly content.

Peaceful.


	7. Epilogue

Epilogue

_7 Months Later_

“Joe come on, are you ready?”

Joe is not ready, thank you very much. There’s more cameras than Joe knew existed. He can hear shouting, hear yelling. He can see fifty interviews happening at once and there just seems to be people for miles.

“Can’t I just sit here and stare at you?” Joe asks, voice a little petulant in his worry as Nicky stares back at him, needing him to move away from the car and up the red carpet. The chuckle he gets is fond and sweet.

He looked incredible, black suit, dark burgundy dress shirt, hair styled and slightly spikey, gold collar chain in place of a tie. Joe had also chosen black but went for a light pink shirt and black tie, curls framing his head.

He knew Nicky’s sister, Natala was waiting somewhere. And that just up ahead was Quynh, Andy, Booker, Lykon, Nile. People to see. People who were anticipating them and needing them to be there.

“I need you right now just as much as you need me.” Nicky said, sweetly, confidently, and entirely legitimate. “Besides, aren’t you excited to see this?”

He was, he could see posters for _his_ creation staring back at him, and Nicky waiting patiently with his hand out.

Joe sighs, fond, and takes it, pleased when Nicky squeezes. Drawing him into the yelling, the camera flashes, and a world Joe still isn’t sure he’s ready for.

But he has to admit, even as they walk, already being hounded to stop by the first person with a branded microphone, that he can only feel excitement for what’s to come.

~~

(It’s a hit, of course.)

~~

 _“When you come into the world with your own expectations of people, you’re bound to get burned, Marlon. Either craft your own path or spend the rest of eternity wishing that you’d done so.”-_ Shadower.

-Yusuf al-Kaysani.

\---End--

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all once again for reading!
> 
> I just want to take this space to clear a couple things that could seem confusing up.
> 
> I had originally intended to take care of all the characters, write way more settings, tons more POV's and have more depth over all. But to be perfectly blunt, that was just more than I could handle. Which is unfortunately why the story ends up mostly focusing on Joe and Nicky, with others as background overall. While it was not my original intention, I simply did not have the means to write what I had conceptualized. It is something I'm tempted to consider revisiting, perhaps.
> 
> This writing style may feel a little different from my usual. This is largely because I wrote it very differently. I'm a single flow writer in most cases, rather than piece here piece there. I had a lot of unfamiliar territory with it, and thus my work could very easily have suffered as a result. However, I like to think I ended up doing okay in the end.
> 
> Any questions, comments, etc, please feel free to ask me. Again, I cannot thank everyone who helped me along enough, and special persons who know what they did to help me and were here for this wild ride from start to finish.
> 
> Ashley, once again thank you for your amazing art and being great to work with. And my MVP editor friend.
> 
> Thank you all!
> 
> -Nate


End file.
